The Blue Door
by rosiebells13
Summary: She had long, brown hair up to her waist, and a pretty good height for a woman. Her eyes were a warm, chocolate brown and her cheeks had a natural creamy blush color to them. Her skin was pale white, and her figure was enchanting; she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She was Isabella Swan, the famous actress, who was worth billions. I was Edward Cullen, an average man.


Chapter 1- (Edward's POV) ~Only in a Dream

I rushed out of the house and quickly locked the blue door to my two-story house that I shared with a man named Mike, who had the brain the size of a peanut. My small travel bookshop was not even 5 minutes away from the house, but I sprinted through the markets of Notting Hill anyway.

My employee waited as he stared out the window, looking for me. I hurried inside the store.

"Hey, boss. Good morning."

"Good morning, Eric," I replied.

"Shall I go fetch a large cappuccino for the both of us?" he asked.

"Sure, go ahead," But, as he headed out the door, I called, "Eric, have there been any more purchases?"

"No, sir," he answered with a frown.

"In that case, make that large cappuccino into a small."

He smiled sadly.

I waited at the counter and started looking at my website on the computer.

Right then, the door opened and the bell rung. I sighed. It would either be Eric or some hopeless customer who would walk right out the door in approximately 2 minutes. I didn't bother to look up.

After about four minutes, I decided that I might want to help this person who might actually be interested in my books. Instead, I was stunned by what was before me.

She had long, brown hair up to her waist, and a pretty good height for a woman. Her skin was pale white, and her figure was enchanting; she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She still had her sunglasses and a petite dark brown beanie on. In her hands, was probably the worst book in the whole shop.

"Excuse me," I said, and she turned to face me. "You wouldn't want that book. It's terrible. The author probably just wrote it off of something on the Internet. But if you're interested in Turkey… Here is something that might be useful. It's got many funny situations, including one involving a kebab."

"No thank you, I'll just keep looking," she said in a beautiful bell chime voice.

She then proceeded to remove her beanie and sunglasses and stuck them into her purse. I just stared at her remarkable beauty; somehow, she looked familiar. _Was that even possible?_

I decided that I should stop being rude by gawking at her goddess features and, instead, watched the camera monitor. There, on the screen, it showed, a stout, little man stuffing his trousers with a book about Canada. I got out from the back of the counter and walked to the back of the shop. I found him standing there, completely oblivious to the cameras.

"Hello, I'm sorry but you are going to have to pay for that book," I tried to say with as much politeness as possible. _There is a lady present._ I chastised.

"What book?" he asked stupidly.

"The one that's down your trousers," I replied.

"There is no book down my trousers," he stated, boldly.

"Then, how come I saw you stuff a book on Canada down your trousers through that camera up there?" I asked. He made no movement, so I continued, "I'll tell you what. You can either take the book out, wipe it, and either purchase it or return it, or I will call down the police. I'm sure they will sort this out."

He said, "I'll return it, thank you."

"Good."

I made my way back to the counter, and he followed me. The beautiful girl was standing there, waiting for me. I got back to my side of the counter, and checked the book that she was buying. Unfortunately, it was the same nonsense book from before. I decided to warn her again.

"Are you sure you want to buy _this_ book?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Okay, in that case, I'll throw in this book as well, for free." She gave me a questioning look. "It's just in case you need survival skills while camping or something…"

"Alright, thanks."

"Are you sure you don't want this book?" I pointed to the one that actually had information about Turkey.

"Yes, I'm sure," she said with a smile.

"Alright, but you won't have any exciting kebab stories in that one."

"Thank you," she said, about to leave.

Just then, the chubby thief man came out from the back, with no book down his trousers, holding the one on Canada. He put the book down, and looked up. As soon as he saw the woman, he did a double take.

"Hey, " he asked. "Can I get an autograph?"

"Yeah, sure."

She looked at me as if I could save her. That's when I finally knew who she was. She was Isabella Swan, the famous actress, who was worth billions. I couldn't believe my stupidity as to how I didn't recognize her. I had watched so many movies of her, and yet I didn't know whom she was when she came inside my bookshop. I handed her a pen, and the man told me he was going to buy the book about Canada, and he purchased it and handed it to her.

She took the book in her fragile hands and opened the front cover. There, she wrote her signature and a message to the man.

"What did you write?" he asked with full enthusiasm.

"I wrote my signature…. And, "you belong in jail," she said.

The stupid man simply grinned from ear to ear, proudly. He took the book from her, and left.

"I am sorry about him," I apologized.

"No, it's fine," she smiled that same dazzling smile.

"Alright, then. Goodbye, have a nice day."

"Goodbye, it was nice to meet you…" She looked at my nametag. "Edward." My name on her lips sent pleasures down my spine.

"Goodbye, I'm sure there won't be any chances of you coming back here after you read that god-awful book, so this is farewell." She smiled brilliantly.

Then, she took her purchased items, and walked out the door.

Seconds after she left, Eric stumbled inside.

"Eric, you will not believe who just came here," I said.

"Who? Was it someone famous?" I shook my head. I guess I didn't really believe what just happened, for it could never occur in reality; only in a dream.

"That's too bad," he continued. "We could have gotten more customers, you know; stuff like famous people going to shops and stores attracts those fans… Did you know that, once, I met Michael Bublé? Or maybe it was Blake Shelton."

"Oh, you did?" I asked questioningly.

"Yes, but it was from a distance, so it was either Bublé or Shelton."

"Wow, but you know, they don't look _anything_ alike," I said.

"Well, it was from a distance… Then again, it could've been anybody."

I looked at him skeptically, "Okay, but it doesn't look like there'll be a lot of business today, so I'll just close up for lunch. I'll meet you here at 3." He nodded.

I hurried out the door and onto the streets. There was a small coffee shop that I usually went to, so I bought a sandwich and an orange juice. As I turned on the corner to get back to my house, I hit something soft, throwing my juice out of my hands and over this comfy person. I looked up to see that it was, in fact, Isabella. I realized I had a napkin and started dabbing at her white, now stained, shirt.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to do it," I apologized for the second time to her.

"Please, get your hands off me."

I felt very guilty, so I offered, "I'm sorry. My house is right there-the one with the blue door. You can go clean up. I'm terribly sorry."

"Um, I'm not sure." She bit on her soft, supple lip.

"Please, it's the least I can do, and it's not that far a walk."

She complied, and said, "Okay, let's go."

I opened the door to my very messy house, and started cleaning up as I went. Isabella stood there, waiting for me, just staring. Realization dawned me.

"Oh! Oh yeah, um, the bathroom is upstairs on the left," I guided her. She put her bags down on the counter and disappeared into the bathroom. I waited for her for at least five minutes, restlessly trying to tidy up. I tucked my shirt in more, and tried to help my already messy reddish-brown hair. The bathroom door swung open and she appeared at the top of the stairs. She looked so _gorgeous._ Just like a goddess.

Isabella had changed out of her plain white t-shirt, and now was wearing a very black, very tight crop-top that revealed most of her stomach, which was extremely pale. I heard her clear her throat, and I realized I was staring at her stomach for a bit too long, _more like gawking at it in awe._

She made her way down the stairs, near where I was standing, in the kitchen. I knew she was about to leave, but I didn't want her to leave _so_ soon.

"Um, so would you like anything to drink? Water? Juice? Tea? Coffee? Milk? This artificial-made sugary cold drink that would probably give you a lot of heart-burn?" I asked, pointing at a bottle full of a foreign liquid.

"No, thank you."

"Anything to eat? These apricots dipped in honey? Though, I can't seem to figure out why they would do that, because then they would just taste like honey and you wouldn't need the apricots; you could just buy honey."

"No," she answered again.

"Do you say 'no' to everything, or is it just me?" I asked.

She took a moment to ponder that, and I frowned. Then, she answered, "No."

Aware that this was about all the time I got to spend with her, I said, "Well, I guess this is goodbye…again."

"Yes, goodbye, Edward," she said, and it made my heart swell.

She walked to the door, and I opened it for her.

"Well, it was nice to meet you. Surreal, but nice." She smiled, and I let her out, and closed the door.

I leaned my back against the door, "Surreal, but nice!? What was I thinking?"

As I turned to walk away from the door, the doorbell rang. I opened it, hoping it was Isabella. It was.

"Hi," she said.

"Um, hi," I said nervously.

"I forgot my bags."

"Oh. Right, your bags." I let her through and she picked her bags up off o the counter.

It was time for her to depart…again. But, instead, she just stared at me for a few brief seconds before attacking me with her lips.

Her lips felt so soft and sweet against mine. I could feel it. I could feel the sparks flying and the fireworks bursting. But the tight embrace ended soon after she pulled away, with her hands still twisting into my hair, and my arms wrapped tightly around her waist. I couldn't let her go now, so I did what I thought I needed to do.

My lips connected with hers and we fell back into that musical symphony again. This kiss lasted longer, but just like the one before, it was closed mouthed.

And, too soon, we broke off, panting.

I saw that her warm, chocolate brown eyes were staring at mine. Finally, she said, "We should probably not mention this." She untangled herself from me, and I let her go.

"Yeah. Yeah, sure. I wouldn't even think of it. Well, sometimes I might, but I still wouldn't believe myself if I did."

"Okay."

"Yeah, and I'm sorry about that 'surreal, but nice' comment."

"It's fine, I think the kebabs and honey-soaked apricots were the real low points."

I laughed out a throaty chuckle.

"Goodbye, Edward."

"Goodbye, Isabella.

"It's Bella. Please call me Bella from now on."

"Okay, goodbye, Bella."

"Bye," she smiled and kissed my cheek.

She opened the door and left. Though, her words still echoed in my head. _From now on._ So, I might meet her again. No, I would definitely meet her again. From now on, she would always be with me in my dreams.


End file.
